


After the Ball

by geekyjez



Series: Isii Lavellan [29]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Halamshiral, The Winter Palace, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age), Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:44:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3457772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekyjez/pseuds/geekyjez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the poorly-timed interruption at the Winter Palace, Isii finally gets the chance to be alone with Solas. She's eager to pick up where they left off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Set immediately after[ Ma Halamshiral](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2908469/chapters/6481070).

Her mind was foggy as she felt the warm hand on her shoulder, a familiar voice repeating her name. Her eyes drifted open, blinking away the groggy haze, slowly becoming aware that she’d fallen asleep with her head slumped against the Commander’s arm. The carriage’s jostling stilled as she righted herself, frowning as the two women who sat across from her smiled. “Well that’s embarrassing,” Isii grumbled, rubbing a hand across her face.

“It has been a long evening,” Josephine said as attendants opened the carriage door. “It’s little wonder you’re exhausted.”

“Sorry,” she muttered, glancing over to Cullen as Leliana moved to exit.

“It wasn’t any trouble.”

“If it’s any consolation, apparently you make for a good impromptu pillow.” Her smile was sleepy, interrupted as she stifled a yawn,lowering herself from the carriage behind the Nightingale.

The sky was already a dusty blue, the clouds on the horizon blushing with the pinks and yellows of the impending sunrise. She knew the Orlesians took their parties seriously, but she had not imagined that the night would drag on for as long as it did. Even after the music stopped, words and wine still flowed in a seemingly endless stream. Where before she had been an oddity, by the night’s end she became a desired commodity among those who witnessed the events of the evening. She had stopped the assassination of their Empress, brought peace to their civil war, and stood beside Celene as her peer and ally. To players of the Game, she quickly rose in status and being seen sharing words with her was more important than ever before. Her jaw ached from maintaining her strained, disingenuous smile as the hours pressed on. It was only when the Empress herself retired for the evening that the ball officially drew to a close, giving Isii the relief she so desperately craved.

The estate they were staying in was small by Orlesian standards, more likely considered a seasonal getaway rather than a proper home. Even so, it was a sprawling place, far larger than their group required. It was generously provided by one of their early supporters in Orlais and as much as Isii looked down on the nobility here, she was looking forward to enjoying the luxury of the oversized bed she’d been assigned to. Isii walked slowly toward the manor as Josephine offered to inform her attendants of her arrival. The Inquisitor agreed distractedly, glancing back as the second carriage arrived.

Isii stilled, watching as Solas stepped out, clutching his mask, his face drawn with irritation. She could hear Dorian speaking as he followed close behind, though could not understand the words being shared between them until Solas replied. “I cannot express how greatly I would appreciate it if you would simply shut up.” Dorian laughed brightly, his stride swaying slightly. Clearly he’d been helping himself to the steady flow of wine while she’d been playing politics and it had him in a merry mood. Cole, meanwhile, slipped unseen from the carriage only to reappear next to it, apparently fascinated by some aspect of its wheel. Isii had learned not to question his behavior most of the time.

She closed the distance between them as the two mages approached. “Getting along as swimmingly as usual, I see.” She said, crossing her arms.

Dorian gave her a heavy-lidded grin, already amused by the words that had yet to leave his mouth. “I’ll leave you two alone. You do know how much Solas here hates being  _interrupted_.” He clapped the elf on the back, tittering at his own joke as he increased his pace towards the house. Solas glared before letting out a slow, vexed sigh.

“I take it he was entertaining himself at your expense on the ride back?” She asked.

“Being locked in a small space with that man is a trying enough experience when he is sober,” Solas muttered before his features softened. “But I have suffered worse.”

She slipped her arm in his, the pair moving in a calm stride toward the manor. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find time for you again at the ball. It was like being tossed into a pit of long-winded sycophants. As soon as I peeled myself away from one of them, another rose to take its place.”

“You had your duties to attend to. I would not wish to serve as a distraction.”

She hummed quietly, smirking. “I doubt that very highly, Solas.” She said. “You didn’t seem to have any objections to distracting me earlier. Rather enthusiastically, I might add.” Her teasing didn’t quite have the effect she was aiming for. He smiled, but it was small, muted, his mind seemingly elsewhere. She tilted her head, her brow shifting as they reached the entryway. “Is everything alright?”

His eyes met hers and the moment passed. His smile broadened and he nodded. “Of course, vhenan.”

They entered the foyer and her gaze shifted, lingering briefly on the grand stairwell ahead. “Walk me to my room?” He made no objection. The path to her temporary quarters did not take long, winding up the stairs and down a long, narrow hallway.

Yet for how anxious she was, the walk felt like it took ages.

Isii had been able to think of little else besides that kiss - or rather those kisses and bites and subtle growling moans. His behavior on the balcony had surprised her, leaving her startled by his intensity. In their short time together, she had grown to expect his subdued reserve. He desired her and he expressed it, but it was always in smaller measures that she usually was the one to initiate. But tonight was different. Tonight, he touched her as if he craved her and as tired as she was, she was eager to pick up where they left off.

He released her arm as they reached her room. She turned her back to the door, grinning, her stomach jumping with anticipation as she pulled him down into a kiss. He went willingly, though staggered when her hand looped behind her back, twisting the handle, tugging him forward as she backed into the bedroom. There was a muffled objection on his lips but she didn’t stop, pushing the door closed with his back as she pressed him against it, her lips crushed against his own, fists gripping the front of his vest. His hands found her waist, fingers digging in against the boning of her corset, her kiss stealing a heated groan from him as she shifted her body against his. The dress shushed with each movement and she wanted so desperately to feel the press of him, currently buried under layers of skirts.

She broke the kiss to catch a breath, her mouth quickly finding its way to his throat. When he murmured _vhenan_ she could feel the vibration of it against her lips, the sound of it sending a shivering warmth down her spine. Then his tone changed. A subtle shift. “It’s late.” It was a weak objection, his breaths still heavy with wanting, sucking in air as her tongue traced his ear.

“Rather early, actually.”

“All the more reason you should get some sleep.”

“I can’t sleep until I get out of this stupid dress,” she purred in his ear, “and because the shems are idiots, they made this thing so I can’t take it off on my own.”

“Do you not have attendants to assist you with that?”

“I do,” she murmured, pulling back to face him once more, tracing the side of his nose with her own, “but they’re not here. And I have a much better idea.” She kissed him again – softer, slower, not as demanding, melting against the light brush of his touch as he met her affections in kind.

 _Creators_ , she wanted him. Even though this was all still new, she had no second thoughts about whether or not they should take things further. She wanted to know what kind of lover he was. She had wondered about it before this moment, curiosity and desire mixing with thoughts of idle pleasure, speculating over how he would behave if she begged him to take her. She had teased him about bedding her but it had always been said in jest. Now, she wasn’t joking. She wanted this.

His posture stiffened, pulling his lips from hers as someone knocked quietly on the opposite side of the door. “Just ignore them.” She whispered, trying to kiss him again. He stopped her with his grip on her waist, giving her a look of unamused chastisement. She wanted to scream. She didn’t want any more damn interruptions. She backed away, allowing him to press past her as she gripped the handle, yanking the door open with a frustrated tug. The poor barefaced elven girl who met her gaze shrank back and Isii tried to soften her features, realizing she had let herself slip into a glare.

“I’m… sorry, Herald.” The servant spat out quickly, lowering her gaze. “Lady Montilyet said you were in need of assistance…”

Isii frowned, closing her eyes briefly as she sighed.  _Right._ She’d forgotten that Josie had gone to notify her attendants. She opened her mouth to speak, a dismissal ready on her tongue when Solas came up behind her, his hand on the small of her back, his lips pressing a chaste kiss to her temple. “Hamin atisha, vhenan.”

She caught his arm as he brushed past her. “Solas-”

He slipped himself from her grip, tipping her chin up with his fingers. “Get some rest. We will speak again tomorrow.”

She acquiesced, though she could do nothing to hide her displeasure. He gave her a small, comforting smile before turning to leave, hearing her door close a moment later.

Solas walked briskly down the hall, headed for his room, his mind reeling. This had been a mistake. He had been too forward with her at the ball. Though his desires had been completely genuine, it felt as if he were leading her on. By his very nature, he was deceiving her - an undeniable fact, no matter how badly he wished it weren’t so. He couldn’t even understand what he was doing with the poor girl or what this newfound partnership was. None of this fit within his plan. She was a variable he had not accounted for. He wanted her, but it was so much more than that. He saw her for what she was, drawn to her beauty and her strength and her unique spirit. Yet there was no foreseeable future in this – no outcome he could envision in which they could be anything more than a fleeting affair. To take her, to bed her, knowing that he could offer her little else felt wrong. It cheapened her.

Even while clinging to that thought, he could not help but envision his hands pulling at the lacings to her gown, peeling away the layers of cloth, freeing her flesh for his hands, his lips, his tongue, his…

 _No._  He had to slow this down, at least until he could determine where this liaison was headed. She deserved that much. He needed to create a comfortable distance again. When they spoke next, he would apologize for his behavior. Say that it was inappropriate. Claim that it was due to a foolish overindulgence of wine. He didn’t like the idea of comparing his genuine desire for her to the lurid mistakes of drunken debauchery, but it was a convenient enough lie.  

“Solas?”

He wasn’t aware of Cole’s presence until he spoke. It was a sign of how distracted he was – normally he could sense the presence of the spirit, his aura causing a slight tremor in the Veil. He turned to face him, the young man peering at him, head tilted in confusion.

“What is it, Cole?”

“I don’t understand.” He said quietly. “Why pull away when it would make both of you happy?” Solas’ jaw tightened and soon Cole’s eyes widened, darting, searching his face in utter bewilderment. “Where did you go?”

“Those thoughts are private, Cole.” He said sternly. “I would rather you not see them.”

Cole’s brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. It’s just… you were thinking so loudly… But not anymore. Silent. Closed. Shadowed, murky. Your mind like an absence, nothingness. I can’t hear you anymore.” The brim of his hat tilted back as he lifted his chin. “I’ve never seen that before. Can other people do that?”

Solas said nothing else, turning and stalking down the hallway.


	2. Bonus: The Carriage Ride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon special request, here's a glimpse into the charming conversation between Dorian and Solas as they left the Winter Palace.

The evening had been frustrating, to say the least. First, Solas had allowed himself to lower his guard with her. Twice in that evening alone he had suffered a slip of the tongue, revealing more to Isii than he had intended. Careless mistakes borne from his growing familiarity with her. He could not afford to allow himself to speak to her as if she truly knew his mind. She did not know Fen’harel. She only knew Solas- and it was growing harder to consciously remind himself of the difference. Secondly, he had acted on his desires when he knew he shouldn’t have. He had been too forthcoming with his flirtation, slipping into old habits of seduction when he still couldn’t determine where any of this was leading. She was a complication that he did not need and yet he was selfishly pulling her closer with each passing day. Tonight, he had been foolish. He did not even have the excuse of giving into her whims as he had been the instigator. If he had taken her suggestion to slip away into seclusion, he might have very well done far more with her that he would now be thinking on with a guilty conscience. This was all a game, a dance, a fabrication of his design and she was a part of it. And while at first he had given in, unable to resist his affection for her, he was now beginning to grow uneasy with the nature of his deception. More and more, it felt like he was using her.

The third and final annoyance was the damn Tevinter who would not stop smirking at him.

Solas kept his eyes fixed on the window, the carriage jostling them across cobblestone streets as they made their way back to their temporary residence. Even so, he could feel Dorian’s gaze fixed squarely on him, a drunken grin peeling back his lips. He appeared self-satisfied; as he had been since he interrupted Solas and Isii on the balcony. There was a small part of him that was embarrassed at being walked-in on, but more so his irritation lay in how infuriatingly smug Dorian was. He was behaving like some chuckling adolescent rather than an adult who understood the oftentimes passionate nature of a mature romantic entanglement. Worse yet, he was merry with drink and less likely to hold his tongue. It had been a blessing that so far his words had been few, but that did not stop him from giggling at the silent jests that were running through his head as he looked across the carriage at him. Cole appeared confused, his eyes darting from one mage to the other, presumably picking up on the thoughts going unspoken between them.

“So, Solas,” Dorian began, finally breaking the silence. He could hear the grin behind the man’s slurring as he kept his eyes on the passing buildings. “Would you say you had a good time at the party?”

“We were not there for our enjoyment,” Solas answered coolly.

Dorian laughed. “Didn’t seem to stop you, though, did it?” Solas didn’t answer. “Looked to me like you and Isii were having a grand time all by yourself.” Solas clenched his jaw slightly, resisting the urge to engage, giving little more than a short grunted _hmph_. “I didn’t think you had it in you. Is that what you two get up to when you wander off from camp? Catch a quick snog on the elfroot before bringing it back?”

“Dorian-”

“Well, I’d presume the two of you have worked your way up to it. Unless of course you want me to believe that you just jumped her this evening with little provocation.”

“It’s all been a game, but this is real,” Cole began. “Scent. Teeth. Tongue. Exploring. Skin hot, craving sensation. Each sound like liquid fire. It’s been so long.”

“Cole-” Solas chastised, but the damage had been done. Dorian was snickering childishly.

“Been awhile then, has it? Well, I suppose that implies you’ve at least been with a woman _once_ , which is more than I would have assumed.”

Solas’ eyes narrowed. “I should probably take it as a comfort that your impression of me is so malformed.”

“See there you go, getting all sour when I’m just having a laugh. Can you really blame me for thinking you couldn’t win many lovers with that charmingly sunny disposition of yours?” He asked sarcastically.

“Dorian, you are drunk.”

“Doesn’t make it any less true.” He shook his head, his blinking labored. “Honestly, I don’t know what her fascination is with you.”

“I strongly recommend dropping this line of discussion.”

“I mean, you’re not exactly dashing. And I can’t imagine a homeless apostate who’d rather spend more time asleep than awake has many prospects.”

“She likes his smile,” Cole added, eager to include himself in the conversation. “Small shifts, but there. She enjoys it more because each is earned. He whispers in her ear and it's like a song she once knew but can no longer remember. She can't always understand the words, but she wants to."

“Well isn’t that precious?”

Cole continued, seemingly oblivious to Dorian’s sarcasm as he looked to Solas. “She thought you didn’t like her. Even then, she still liked you. The future whispered. He called her vhenan. Crazed. Red. Glowing. But she never forgot.” Solas’ eyes narrowed, his head tilting. It wasn’t often that he found himself incapable of seeing the meaning behind Cole’s words. “She wants the Fade again, only real. And that thing you did with your leg.”

Dorian snorted. Solas shot him a stern look before returning his gaze to the spirit. “Cole, we’ve discussed this. I’m certain she would not want you sharing this. Particularly in mixed company.” 

The carriage was coming to a stop as the boy looked up at him, eyes wide. “I’m only trying to-”

“Cole.” The spirit sighed, lowering his gaze.

“Oh don’t stop the poor thing,” Dorian said, smirking as he rested his chin on his hand. “ _Wants the Fade again_ , hmm? And what is that supposed to mean exactly?”

“Leave it be _._ ” Solas snapped, not waiting for the attendants, eagerly opening the door himself.

“Hmm, now he’s getting defensive.” Dorian followed close behind as Solas stepped down from the carriage. “Has our expert been getting up to some extracurricular activities in the Fade? I’m certain the subject makes for a fascinating study.”

“I cannot express how greatly I would appreciate it if you would simply _shut up_ ,” Solas growled, his irritation sinking even further under his skin as he heard the bright rippling of Dorian’s laughter. He saw Isii up ahead, casually strolling towards them as they approached the estate. Admittedly the mere sight of her soothed him somewhat. Dress torn and bloodied, mask pushed back to the top of her head. Her eyes were tired, yet her smile warmed her features, soft and amused.

“Getting along as swimmingly as usual, I see,” she said, her arms folding gracefully across the delicate embroidery of her bodice.

Dorian hitched his step to stand alongside Solas. “I’ll leave you two alone. You do know how much Solas here hates being _interrupted_.” Solas didn’t appreciate Dorian thumping his hand hard against his back. His eyes narrowed as the Tevinter stepped away, chuckling. He let out a sigh before turning his attention to Isii. She looked genuinely happy to see him, gazing up at him lovingly.

That, in itself, was enough to make putting up with Dorian worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cole's comments that elude Solas' understanding are a reference to [Red Lyrium.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2892059)


End file.
